


The Dragon's Den

by Sketch



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 15:21:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2155464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sketch/pseuds/Sketch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin was having a bad day. </p>
<p>Spilling hot coffee on his boss's son certainly didn't help.</p>
<p>(Merthur coffee shop AU)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dragon's Den

**Author's Note:**

> From a Tumblr prompt asking for a Merthur coffee shop AU. 
> 
> This may be the stupidest, cheesiest, most cliche thing I've ever written. Give me a break, okay?

It wasn’t as if Merlin _disliked_ working at the Dragon’s Den.

It paid the rent, let him continue his education, and he could work alongside his best friend in the entire world -- Gwen, who’d gotten him the job in the first place. The place wasn’t busy, but it wasn’t slow, either. Mostly students like himself. Attractive students, might he add. Attractive, kind students, who smiled when he ‘accidentally’ gave them an extra scone with their coffee.

Still date-less though he was, he definitely had a Blossoming Thing with a nice girl called Freya, who was studying theater and had brown eyes warmer than a hazelnut latte.

So, no, he didn’t dislike his job.

He disliked the person who _owned_ his job.

Scratch that, he _hated_ the person who owned his job.

Uther Pendragon, CEO of Pendragon, Co., was, Merlin liked to say, an uppity conservative snob with no regard for his employees or care for the world in general. Why he didn’t sell the Dragon’s Den was a mystery, since he’d never shown a sliver of interest in it, except to occasionally fire one of its workers.

And when it was Will, Merlin’s other best mate, who got the axe at seven o’clock in the morning, just as Merlin’s shift was starting, he’d had half a mind to throw in the towel then and there. Or, apron, rather.

But Will held him back. “’S not worth it, Merls,” he said, attempting to fold his own apron, but screwing it up tremendously. “I appreciate it and all, but you need this job.”

So Merlin had let him go and began his shift in a mood to end all moods.

He was still fuming when the crowds started coming in before class.

“Cafe mocha, no whip,” the customer at the stand ordered. He was the last in the shop, probably late for class. Merlin recognized him somewhat. He’d been here before, but was always so brusque that Merlin had never bothered to chat with him. He knew the guy’s type: blonde, arrogant, walked around like the sun shone from his--

“Did you hear me, or are those ears of yours that big for nothing?”

Merlin blinked. “Excuse me?”

He huffed. “Never mind. Cafe mocha, no whip.”

“Coming right up,” Merlin muttered, grabbing a fresh cup. “What’s the name?”

“I’m the only one in-- Whatever. Arthur. It’s Arthur. Now, hurry up.” Arthur rolled his eyes and said something about idiot employees under his breath.

When the coffee was poured, Merlin snapped a lid over the rim and turned to hand it to the customer. Except, he didn’t. Because he tripped, and when he caught himself on the counter, the lid popped back off and scalding liquid sloshed all over Arthur.

“You...”

“I...”

“ _You_...”

“I...”

They stared at each other for a long second.

“I’m so sorry, mate, I’ll--”

“I _am_ not your mate,” Arthur said coldly, venom seeping through his tone.

“My mistake,” Merlin replied just as icily. “Look, it was an accident.”

“Do you have any idea who I am?”

“A huge prat?”

“Arthur Pendragon, son of Uther Pendragon. Your _boss_.”

Merlin froze in his mopping up the spilled drink. “Oh.”

“And now you’ve made me late for class. Do you know what I could have done to you,” his eyes flicked to Merlin’s name tag, “ _Mer_ lin?”

Now he literally threw down the towel, and reaching back to untie his apron strings, said, “Doesn’t matter. I quit. Tell your father, would you?”

“No, wait,” Arthur spluttered, “You can’t... You can’t _quit_. I’m firing you!”

In response, Merlin simply dropped his apron and walked out of the coffee shop.

He was halfway down the street when he heard the tinkle of a bell, and Arthur was beside him, grabbing him by the shoulder and making him stop.

“I didn’t mean it. I’m not-- I--” Arthur looked slightly panicked. “Listen. Come back to the shop.”

“Why? So you can properly fire me? Call Daddy down to do it for you?” Merlin was this close to punching the wanker in the face.

“No, it’s just.” Arthur bit his lip, glancing around desperately. “It’s just I’m not actually allowed to fire people. And I wasn’t going to get you fired either. What I really wanted was to ask you to get a drink with me.”

Merlin’s jaw dropped. “Mate, normally, when you go to ask someone out, you don’t do it by threatening their job. You utter _clotpole_.”

He threaded his fingers through his hair. “I’ve been working up the courage to ask you for weeks. I was hoping to catch you when the shop was empty. Hence why I was late today.” He sighed. “But then you weren’t even paying attention to me, and I... There’s something about you, Merlin.”

“Something... about... me...” His brain seemed to have stopped working. Turned to mush. Malfunctioned.

“So, will you? If I give you your job back, will you?”

“Will I...?”

“Get a drink. With me.”

Merlin slowly shook his head. “I don’t drink.”

“Oh.” Arthur’s face fell a fraction of an inch. “Right. Fine, then.”

He sort of moved to walk away, but then Merlin’s mind caught back up. “Wait!” He caught Arthur’s arm. “I don’t drink, but I do. Eat. I eat.”

“You eat.”

“Yeah. Food. I eat food. Dinner. We could eat dinner. Together. Saturday.” Merlin’s face flushed. Now his brain was working overtime, and his words had turned to mush.

“Saturday.” Arthur blinked. “Do you like Chinese?”

Merlin felt a smile creep onto his face, despite it all. “Love it.”

****  
  
  



End file.
